


Under the Wire/Crossing Over

by vocal_fries



Series: Subtext Becomes Text [9]
Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Angst, BDSM, Biting, Blood, Blood Kink, Blood Play, Casual Sex, Consensual Possession, DS9 S2E22 "The Wire", DS9 S2E23 "Crossover", Friends With Benefits, Frottage, Group Sex, Hurt/Comfort, Kink, M/M, Marking, Multi, Porn With Plot, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Power Play, Recovery, Scissoring, Smut, Tribadism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2019-01-07
Packaged: 2019-09-27 00:09:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17151602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vocal_fries/pseuds/vocal_fries
Summary: The removal of the device in Garak's head severely strains his relationship with Julian. Before they can fix it, each has to do some healing on his own. Ch1 follows Garak and is set during and after DS9 S2E22 "The Wire." Ch2 follows Julian and is set after E23 "Crossover."





	1. Garak

**Author's Note:**

> There's no Garashir slash in the first chapter, but there is some ~really gratuitous~ FWB smut for those bold enough to accept my new headcanon that Jadzia, Garak, and Rennan are basically the Queer Superfriends / Big Gay Badboiz Space Club. (Thanks to epic_cephalopod for nudging me in the right direction.)
> 
> For the dialogue in the first scene, all credit is due to the writers of DS9 S2E22 "The Wire." Thank you, DS9 writers, for one of the highest drama stories in all of gay scifi.

Elim Garak awoke to a blinding, universal pain suffusing his body. He looked around blearily as fragments of memories coalesced into a vague outline of events.  _ I’m in the infirmary. Julian. I attacked him. I hurt him. What have I done? _

Julian Bashir stood several feet away, speaking quietly with a Bajoran nurse, Jabara.

“If we turn the implant back on, we might be able to keep him alive for another week or two,” the nurse suggested.

Garak summoned the strength to be heard. “No.”

The doctor turned to look at him in surprise. “What?”

Garak’s heart clenched when he saw Julian’s face, lined with concern.  _ What have I done? _ “I won't allow it. I never want that thing turned on again.”

Bashir fixed a comforting look on Garak’s face.  _ I tried to kill him, and he looks at me with kindness. _ Garak felt nauseated. He wished for his pounding headache to split him open when Julian spoke to him, voice gentle. “I understand how you feel, but I'm not sure what else I can do for you.”

Waves of regret and self-loathing crashed over Garak. He felt himself drowning.  _ If only I could grab an anchor and be quicker about it. _ “You've done enough, Doctor. More than I deserve.” Garak paused.  _ How can I make it up to him before I die? _ “There's something you have to know.”

“What's that?” Garak felt Julian’s hazel eyes search his face.

“The truth.”

Julian’s small, gentle, knowing smile made Garak want to throw himself from the nearest airlock. He had never deserved this beautiful, patient boy. Certainly not now. Bashir inhaled, then spoke, patient and sweet. “I've about given up on learning the truth from you, Garak.”

The cascade of pain ripping through Garak almost blinded him. He composed himself as best he could, trying to return Julian’s affectionate tone. “Oh, don’t give up on me now, Doctor. Patience has its rewards.” He felt lightheaded at his own vulnerability, but pushed on, trying to focus despite feeling delirious with pain. “Now listen carefully. Elim wasn't my aide. He was,” he paused to consider, then continued, “my friend. We grew up together. We were closer than brothers. For some reason, Enabran Tain took a liking to us. Before long, we were both powerful men in the Obsidian Order. They called us the Sons of Tain. Even the Guls feared us.”

Garak paused, noting the flicker of intrigue in Julian’s smooth brow.  _ He does love a spy story, _ he reflected before continuing. “And then there was a scandal. Someone in the Order was accused of letting some Bajoran prisoners escape. There were constant rumors of who was going to be implicated. Fingers were being pointed at me. By then, Tain had retired to the Arawath Colony. He couldn't protect me, so I panicked.” Garak paused, letting the moment land while he tamped down the pain searing every nerve in his body. “I did everything in my power to make sure that Elim was accused instead of me. I altered records, planted evidence — only to discover that he'd beaten me to it.”

Julian looked pensive. “He betrayed you first.” 

“Elim destroyed me. Before I knew what was going on, I was sentenced to exile.” Garak chuckled. “And the irony is, I deserved it. Oh, not for the reasons they claimed, but because of what I had tried to do to Elim,” he said, staring deeply into Julian’s eyes and holding his gaze. “My best friend.”

“Why are you telling me this, Garak?” Bashir’s brow furrowed as he looked expectantly at Garak’s face.

The Cardassian felt his heart twist in his chest. He steeled his face.  _ Beautiful boy. _ “So that you can forgive me,” he said, controlling his voice as best he could. “Why else?” Garak gazed up at Julian, this man he’d loved, whom he’d pushed away, whom he’d nearly killed. “I need to know,” Garak continued, hopefully offering his hand to his lover, “that someone forgives me.”

Julian’s eyes flooded with a mix of compassion, love, and pain that would have sent Garak out of his mind if he wasn’t already being torn apart by severe endorphin deficiency and toxin overload. When the human took his hand, Garak almost wept. “I forgive you,” Bashir said with a helpless shrug, holding Garak’s gaze, “for whatever it is you did.”

For the briefest moment, Garak felt cool threads of relief disrupt his anguish. “Thank you, Doctor. That's most kind.” As the pain overwhelmed him, he closed his eyes, content to die.

_ I love you, Julian. Thank you. _

_____________

 

“Are the neurotransmitter modulators beginning to work?”

Garak sighed. It had been a week since he’d been discharged from the infirmary, and Julian continued to nag him about his brain chemistry every time he saw the man. When Bashir had invited him to have a drink in his quarters this evening, Garak had thought things might be returning to normal.  _ No such luck, _ he thought as he joined Bashir at his small dining table.

“Well enough,” Garak replied with a curt nod. “Although this constant, coddling attitude of yours is irritating enough that I rarely have occasion to release endorphins or serotonin anyway.”

Julian rolled his eyes, sipping his tea with an affectation of long-suffering patience. “We’re only resetting your brain chemistry, Garak.”

“It’s  _ quite _ reset, my dear. Just the other day, Odo shared with me an anecdote about Morn vomiting the contents of  _ all _ his stomachs in your examination room when you were trying to leave for the day, and I positively roared with laughter.” Garak studied the human, waiting for Doctor Bashir to leave his face and Julian to truly arrive in his eyes.  _ He’s so distant. _

The young man scoffed, looking at Garak through narrowed eyes. “Taking perverse pleasure in the misfortunes of two of your friends is not compelling evidence of a recovery!”

“Ah, but this is precisely the type of absurd story Odo used to tell me when he stopped by the shop during his rounds, and laughing at your misadventures has been part of my experience of day to day glee for well over a year now.”

Julian relented, a hint of a smile curling his lips. “Well, I suppose if you’re getting back to being as awful as always, that’s a positive sign.”

Garak grinned, knowing he was baring his teeth invitingly as much as he was smiling. He loved arguing with this man. “Awful, Julian? I tolerate your ridiculous reading choices, I entertain your absurd Starfleet sentiments, and I  _ even  _ agreed to stop drinking kanar until my neurotransmitters are balanced again because  _ you _ insisted,” he finished pointedly, swirling his rokassa juice before taking a sip.

Julian’s brow creased, and Garak could see him become Doctor Bashir again. “I’m concerned you’ll trade one addiction for another. You haven’t been drinking, right?”

Garak sighed again. “ _ No,  _ my dear, I haven’t. Much to my chagrin, I might add. You never seem quite this pedantic when I drink.”

“Pedantic!” Bashir’s face flushed with indignation. “Excuse me for trying to take care of a patient through a complicated recovery.”

Garak drained his glass of rokassa juice, watching Julian closely. “And yet you insist I shouldn’t even take care of  _ myself _ ,” he said, raising a brow ridge.

Julian sighed, but Garak saw the flush of the human’s skin deepen in color and saturation. “I’ve already told you a dozen times, I don’t think it’s wise to risk you swapping addictions while you’re vulnerable.”

Garak sighed. “And when precisely will you deem me ready to resume my regular activities? Shall I be a celibate teetotaler forever?”

“Don’t be dramatic, Garak. I just don’t want to compromise your recovery. Healing takes time.”

Garak looked deeply into hazel eyes. “I want to fuck you, Julian.”

“Garak.” A warning.

“I want to pin you down, spread your thighs, and lick your asshole until you beg me to take you.”

“Garak!”

“I want to feel how tight you are. I want to thrust hard and fast inside you while I stroke your beautiful cock.”

“Garak…,” Julian looked flushed and his breathing was uneven.  _ Good. _

“I want to hear you cry out when you come and feel you clench hard around me. I want to fill you so full of cum that you’re still leaking when you go to work tomorrow.”

“Garak,” Julian whispered, eyes conflicted.

Garak grasped Julian’s knee under the table. “Julian,” he hissed. He felt as much as saw the human tense suddenly, and he removed his hand, leaning back. “Julian?”

Garak studied the young man’s face.  _ Is he afraid of me? _ Frustration warred with regret as he watched Bashir compose himself.

“I just don’t think it’s a good idea, Garak. I mean, yet. You need more time to recover.”

Garak examined the human’s face a moment longer, then took a deep, steadying breath. “All right. Good night, Julian.” Garak rose, gave Julian a polite nod, and left his quarters.

_____________

 

“Hi, Garak. Jadzia.”

Garak was pleasantly surprised to see Rennan Grax standing next to his table and just drunk enough to show it. “Do you like Klingon food, Rennan?”

“It’s not my favorite, but it’s growing on me. I’ve been really enjoying the new chef’s take on rokeg blood pie, though I’m told it’s not a traditional recipe,” the young Betazoid replied, grinning down at Garak.  _ He looks amused that I’m intoxicated, _ Garak thought,  _ but not unkindly. _

“Jadzia has been insisting I try racht,” Garak confided, casting a pointed glance at his Trill dinner companion. He affected a conspiratorial tone and tilted his head toward Rennan. “Between you and me, though, I prefer gagh. Serpent worms suitably mature for racht get a little gamey for my tastes.”

Jadzia laughed out loud. “Garak has been too focused on trying out the bloodwine to enjoy the racht,” she quipped, smirking at Rennan.

Garak looked aghast. “Trying out? My  _ dear! _ I’ve certainly been drinking bloodwine since before you—“ he caught himself. “Well, since before  _ Jadzia _ was born. I’m simply a bit more affected by it because of Doctor Bashir’s  _ ridiculous _ insistence that I take a break from alcohol. For my health, you see. But a month is  _ plenty _ of time, if you ask me.”

Rennan chuckled. “And Julian is away in the Gamma Quadrant.”

Garak shot him a leveling look. “Indeed he is.”  _ Be nice, Elim. _ Garak offered a polite smile. “Would you care to join us, Rennan? Jadzia has been regaling me with tales from the life of Curzon Dax.”

Rennan grinned and sat down. “Thank you. I’m sure they’ll get my blood pie to me over here.”

Jadzia smiled warmly at Rennan. “It’s nice to see you away from the shop. Julian’s said such nice things about you that I’ve felt a little bad that I only talk to you when I’m buying chocolates.”

“Aw, well Julian only has kind things to say about you as well,” Rennan returned, eyes sparkling.

Garak smiled to himself very slightly.  _ Julian would die if he knew the three of us were eating dinner together at his favorite restaurant. _

He tuned back into the conversation in front of him. “We have those hazelnut fudges back in stock,” Rennan was saying.

Jadzia set down her bloodwine with a grin. “Don’t be surprised if I buy every single one of them. Those things are better than sex — at least the way most people do it.”

All three laughed. Rennan’s food arrived and Jadzia ordered a refill of her bloodwine, but Garak switched to rokassa juice. As the evening wore on, Garak realized it was the happiest and most at home he’d felt since before he’d had the device removed. The shock to his system had been devastating, but as he’d stabilized and begun to recover, Julian had pulled away from him. Garak had few friends on the station, and the conspicuous distance of the one he spent time with most often would have been painful regardless of the state of his brain chemistry, all the more so in light of recent events. He and Jadzia only dined together occasionally, but he respected her a great deal and valued the unique perspectives she offered as someone who was simultaneously both 28 years old and 300 years old, had lifetimes’ worth of memories, and had lived as more than one gender. Over the previous months, Rennan had begun to come by the shop to tailor his wardrobe and commission a few original pieces, and although Garak had not become close to the young man, he felt a certain ease with him.

Garak drifted into reverie, half listening, as Jadzia and Rennan’s conversation meandered through a new chocolate recipe, a mutual friend, and mok’bara. He sipped his rokassa juice, considering Julian’s behavior since the removal of the device. The human had been so attentive at first, almost to the point of being overbearing. Then suddenly, once Garak had begun to feel more normal, the young man had made himself scarce, claiming to be busy. Every time they saw each other, Julian inquired about his health, reminded him not to drink, over-exercise, or masturbate, and then found an excuse to leave abruptly. After the evening Bashir spurned Garak’s touch weeks ago, the human had managed to ensure all their meetings were in public or semi-public places. Garak had initially attributed this to his atrocious behavior toward Julian while in withdrawal from the device, but the man had reassured him all was forgiven. The only time Garak had tried to inquire about why Julian refused to see him in his quarters, Julian had simply smiled and said that it was best not to tempt themselves before running off to the infirmary. 

Garak should his head slightly, took a long swallow of his bloodwine, and refocused on the conversation at hand. His dinner companions were discussing travel.

“Has Dax ever seen Lake Cataria while visiting Betazed?” Rennan asked, sipping a mug of bahgol.

Jadzia nodded. “Curzon loved Betazed.” She grinned, mischievous. “And Betazoids. He ended up being very popular the handful of times he visited Betazed. Lake Cataria is beautiful. He spent a very enjoyable week there with a gorgeous Betazed couple he’d endeared himself to.”

Rennan raised an eyebrow, suggestive. “Fully telepathic Betazoids are  _ incredible _ lovers in my experience. I can’t even imagine what it would be like if both partners were. I’ve had sex with a few Betazoids and even with my limited psionic abilities, the level of connection achieved is indescribable. Being able to communicate so completely and be so connected must feel like-- like transcending the confines of the self.” He gazed into space for a moment, then glanced slyly at Jadzia. “So did Curzon learn to shut it down, or was he more comfortable being honest than most humanoids without psionic abilities?”

Jadzia laughed. “He was pretty shameless in virtually all situations, but once he realized he could just imagine his desires, things  _ really _ got, ah, enjoyable.”

Garak laughed with them. Despite himself, the conversation was arousing. He could feel the lips of his ajan swelling, and he breathed deeply, enjoying the warmth between his legs.

Jadzia quirked a smile at Rennan. “So what’s it like as an empath to have sex with someone else with psionic abilities? I’ve found that since being joined, having the sensory memories of Curzon’s sex life has made me enjoy having sex with people with phallic organs more than I used to. It’s like I can imagine, at least a little, what it feels like for them when they fuck me. And that’s on top of the sensation of me actually getting fucked. It’s sort of hard to describe, but it’s incredibly erotic.”

“Cardassian males have both a phallus and a penetrable orifice,” Garak chimed in, sipping his rokassa juice thoughtfully. “I’d never thought about the sort of sexual empathy you speak of, but yes, I understand what you mean.”

“It’s incredible, right?” Jadzia asked, smiling into Garak’s eyes.

Garak raised a brow ridge and gave a small nod of agreement before turning back to their Betazoid dinner companion. “But I cut you off, Rennan.”

“I guess since I didn’t grow up around Betazoids and started out sleeping with other humanoids, that type of pairing feels normal to me. But I certainly feel more understood and more deeply enmeshed when I sleep with other Betazoids. It’s very intimate. I once slept with a Ferengi, and I can’t read them at all. He was kind enough, but I found it really off-putting and had sort of a bad time. He and I may have had other compatibility issues, but sleeping with humanoids I  _ can _ read allows me to experience their emotional state as well as their arousal. I think not being able to feel that guy’s desire really turned me off.”

“I’ve never had sex with a Ferengi, but I have yet to meet a species whose arousal isn’t, eh,  _ palpable _ in some way,” Garak remarked, and Jadzia laughed.

Rennan blushed, grinned, and shrugged. “Maybe my ego is just fragile.”

Garak grinned back. “So Jadzia, tell us about Curzon’s week on Lake— Cataria, is it?”

“Wait, have  _ you _ never been there?” Jadzia asked. “You’re so well-traveled that I just assumed.”

“I’ve never had the pleasure of visiting Betazed at all,” Garak said with a resigned gesture.

“That surprises me,” Jadzia said. “If you ever get the chance, definitely go there. It’s incredible.”

“I have a holosuite program for it,” Rennan said brightly. He drank the last swigs of his drink and set down the glass. “It’s the most expensive program I’ve ever bought, and it’s  _ amazingly _ detailed. Let’s see if Quark has a suite available!”

Jadzia looked hopefully at Garak. He gave another nod. “Of course.”

“Yay!” Jadzia clapped excitedly.

Ten minutes later, the three of them sat on the holographic shores of Lake Cataria. The sun was sinking into the lake on the horizon before them as purples, reds, and oranges swirled in the western sky, reflected off the rippling water. A few yards from where they sat, small indigo-purple waves lapped noisily against rounded pink stones.

“It’s beautiful,” Garak confirmed.

Rennan sat between the Cardassian and the Trill. He smiled broadly. “I fell in love with it the first time I saw it.”

Jadzia grinned. “I can’t wait to go back. It was one of Curzon’s favorite places.” When she saw their expectant faces, she laughed. “Fine. Okay, so Curzon was on Betazed for a diplomatic meet-and-greet. Afterward, he went to a bar to blow off steam. He saw the most beautiful, most profoundly fuckable man he’d ever laid eyes on — and because Curzon was never subtle, this man picked up on his interest right away. They ended up going back to the man’s home to have sex. So Curzon was balls-deep inside this guy when he heard the front door. The guy says ‘My wife is home,’ and Curzon freezes, thinking there’s going to be a huge scene. Instead, the guy says ‘I told her to come home early and join us. Sorry I forgot to ask you.’ So Curzon being Curzon, he just yells ‘In here!’”

Garak and Rennan erupted in laughter.

“The wife comes in, says hello, picks up her skirt, and straddles her husband’s face, prim as can be, and introduces herself to Curzon like she’s at a formal meeting. After a couple of minutes, she’s grinding against the husband’s mouth, panting, telling Curzon to fill her husband up with cum, saying she can’t wait for her turn on his big alien cock. They had so much fun they invited him to join them on the vacation they had scheduled starting a couple days later. It was a  _ crazy _ week. Curzon joked that by the end, the husband’s cock was practically a second symbiont.”

They laughed, but Garak’s ajan ached with arousal by the end of Jadzia’s story. He noticed Rennan seemed to be shifting uncomfortably. From the corner of his eye, Garak caught a glimpse of Rennan’s cock outlined beneath his leggings, hard and straining against the fabric.

Jadzia caught the change in mood. Her eyes rested momentarily on Rennan’s erection, and Garak thought he saw her breath hitch.

Jadzia looked up at Rennan’s face, her eyes hot but serious. “Are you drunk?”

“No,” the Betazoid replied, breathing a little heavily.

“Good,” she said. “I’m not either, and I really want to touch your cock.”

Rennan spread his thighs, leaning back on one hand. He grinned. “By all means.”

Jadzia turned and placed her hand on Rennan’s thigh, then glanced up at Garak. “Are you comfortable with this?”

“As I’m sure Rennan can attest, I’m very interested and very comfortable with this,” he said softly, tearing his eyes away from Jadzia’s hand long enough to meet her eyes.

Jadzia grinned. Her hand closed around the outline of Rennan’s cock, and the young Betazoid gasped. She nuzzled his neck as she stroked between his legs. “I want to suck your pretty cock,” she whispered, kissing his throat.

Rennan moaned, then whispered back, “Yes.” He lay back on his elbows on the grass, lifting his hips to slide his leggings down. His thick cock sprang free, and Garak felt his own prUt lurch within him. Garak watched breathlessly as Jadzia positioned herself between muscular thighs, licking eagerly a few times before her delicate lips stretched around the head of Rennan’s cock. The Betazoid whimpered under the ravenous attention Jadzia lavished on his cock.

Garak felt an almost overwhelming urge to touch himself. Rennan had removed his shirt, and Jadzia was shedding clothes rapidly. Rennan’s gaze caught Garak’s and held him. Garak felt lightheaded under that intensity. He watched Rennan’s face contort with pleasure as Jadzia’s head bobbed rhythmically in his peripheral vision, the most delightfully filthy sounds filling his ears.

“Jadzia,” Rennan gasped. “I think Garak is feeling left out.”

Jadzia looked up at Garak coyly, never fully taking her mouth off Rennan’s cock. “Oh?”

Rennan reached toward Garak. “I think so. Maybe he’d like to be involved. Garak, would you like to take off your pants too?”

Garak removed his pants wordlessly, watching Jadzia’s enthusiasm for Rennan’s cock pull her attention away from him again. Rennan gasped and his hips jerked slightly, sending a fresh wave of arousal through Garak.

Garak’s thoughts strayed to Julian’s warning for just a brief moment before he sat on his heels and sunk his fingers into his ajan, eyes locked with Rennan’s. The Betazoid’s face was flushed. “Finger her,” Rennan suggested, and Garak saw Jadzia shift so she knelt between the Betazoid’s legs, hips up as Rennan’s cock pushed deeper into her throat.

Keeping the fingers of one hand inside his own ajan, Garak moved closer, ran a hand up the back of Jadzia’s soft thigh, and slipped two fingers inside her wet, swollen cunt. A third finger followed easily, and a fourth. The wet, slick heat he found inside Jadzia closely mirrored his own. He thrust his fingers inside her in the same way he touched himself, and he heard her begin to whimper and moan around Rennan’s cock.

Rennan squirmed beneath Jadzia’s attentions, whimpering more loudly as he watched Garak’s fingers work, the wetness of his ajan and Jadzia’s cunt squelching audibly. When Rennan came, Jadzia sucked him through it while Garak leaned down and kissed the young man’s neck.

As Rennan’s orgasm subsided, Jadzia kissed his thighs and hips before crawling up and kissing his mouth. She turned her attention to Garak, pulling his face from Rennan’s neck toward her. She kissed him, and he moaned at the taste of Rennan’s cum on her tongue.

Jadzia drew back slightly. “Are you familiar with sis cogrins?” she asked, voice breathy.

Garak suppressed a gasp. “Yes,” he replied, panting against her mouth. “And yes.”

With a feline fluidity Garak found mesmerizing, Jadzia smoothly extricated herself from Rennan and straddled Garak’s lap. She pulled one of his thighs to rest atop hers, then squirmed closer until her cunt was pressed against Garak’s ajan. They both moaned at the contact, then began to slowly thrust against one another, entwined thighs working. Garak’s ajan pulsed as Jadzia’s cunt slid against it, hot and slick and soft and intoxicating. As they found a rhythm, their pace increased.

“Fuck, your scales feel so good,” Jadzia gasped, bearing down to grind her clit harder against Garak. “And that  _ fluid,  _ Garak, holy goddamn.”

After over a month without sex, Garak found himself nearly speechless as the sensations washed over him. He’d only had one partner who enjoyed sis cogrins, as Jadzia called it. Garak found s’ajansek, as it was known in Kardasi, deeply erotic, but it was more common among Cardassians without prUts. He steeled himself against the urge to evert, keeping his ajan pressed against Jadzia’s cunt as they slid over one another, but he could feel his resolve slipping.

Garak reached between them to swipe his fingers through their commingled fluids before teasing the Trill’s nipples with his slick lubricant. Jadzia cried out, thighs flexing, and she ground down against Garak’s throbbing ajan. Through a ragged breath, she managed a few words. “It’s starting to feel different. Are you going to evert?”

Garak nodded, tense. Jadzia grinned impishly, raising her hips slightly. Garak’s prUt slid out instantly, having only remained inside his ajan from the pressure of Jadzia’s body. She lowered herself again, pushing Garak down flat beneath her, and Garak felt her pin his prUt against his lower belly. Jadzia slid back and forth along its length, rubbing her increasingly swollen clitoris against his prUt.

Rennan had propped himself on one arm, watching them with rapt attention. Garak reached one arm toward him, and Rennan shifted closer. The young man lightly nibbled Garak’s shoulder and neck ridges, and the Cardassian groaned as Rennan began to nip harder. Jadzia picked up her pace, vocalizing loudly as she approached her orgasm. Garak gripped her hips as she came, her ejaculate warm between his legs as it flooded out of her.

Jadzia lay beside Garak, curling an arm and a leg around him while she caught her breath. Rennan shifted, nipping down Garak’s chest ridge, hip ridge, chuva. He made eye contact with Garak, hovering his mouth over Garak’s twitching prUt.

“Please,” Garak whispered, and Rennan’s mouth stretched around him. Garak felt strong fingers encircle the base of his prUt, and he shuddered. Jadzia began to suck on his shoulder ridge, and he gasped out, “Please, Jadzia, bite.”

The young woman bit his scales far harder than he’d expected, quickly discovering which ones he preferred. Rennan sucked and stroked his prUt, pinching Garak’s hip ridge with his free hand. Garak closed his eyes, losing himself to the sensations. He moaned openly as he came, nearly blacking out with the force of his orgasm.

When he opened his eyes, the holosuite seemed to be spinning. Overheard, the Betazoid sky was dark purple, nearly black. He could feel Jadzia kissing his freshly chewed shoulder ridges and stroking his chest gently. Rennan’s mouth pressed gentle kisses to the soft microscales of his hip crease. He heard Rennan whimper against his hip suddenly, and he realized the young man had come again.

When Rennan lay next to him, Garak smiled languidly. “I could have done that for you.”

Rennan grinned back, eyes sleepy. “Nonsense. But I might take you up on that another time.”

Garak smoothed Rennan’s hair. “Absolutely.” He turned to Jadzia, who appeared to be dozing, though her fingers still played lightly across the small, smooth scales of Garak’s stomach. He kissed her lightly on the forehead, and she opened her eyes and smiled.

“Holy shit, Garak,” she purred, then dissolved into giggles.

“Indeed,” Garak agreed.

The three of them lapsed into silence for several minutes until Rennan spoke. “Computer, shift to sunrise. Air 32 degrees Celsius, water 29 degrees.”

The sky lightened as the sun crept over the eastern horizon behind them. Garak and Jadzia looked at Rennan, who grinned. “We all smell like sex. Let’s go swimming before we get dressed again?”

Jadzia grinned. “Rennan, you’re full of good ideas.” She hopped up and ran into the water, disappearing a couple yards in with a graceful swan dive.

Rennan held out a hand to Garak. The Cardassian smiled politely as he accepted. “So you are,” he said, standing. He stretched, feeling the remnants of Jadzia’s ejaculate run down his thighs. Rennan ran into the water, laughing joyfully and calling over his shoulder, “Come on! You’re a goddamn mess.”

Garak felt a small, involuntary smile on his lips.  _ Perhaps not so much as I was,  _ he thought.


	2. Julian

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is all Bashir's POV. Buckle up for angst, a lot of talking, and some truly filthy smut as our boys get back on the horse. Hurt/comfort in the highest.
> 
> If you don't think you can hang with  
> -Discussion of post-traumatic stress after the canonical events of "The Wire"  
> -Blood play  
> -Rough sex  
> then please steer clear.

Bashir awoke drenched in sweat, tangled in his bedding. This dream had been the worst so far. In most of the nightmares he’d had since Garak attacked him, he found himself grappling with the Cardassian, helpless, unable to loosen the man’s grip around his neck as his vision went dark. Mad blue eyes stared down at him while he gasped for air, lacking the breath necessary to scream.

Tonight, the Garak who tackled him to the floor wore the uniform of the Garak he had met in the Mirror Universe. This Garak’s eyes weren’t just mad but cold and cruel. This Garak’s sharp reptilian talons extended two centimeters from his fingertips where the Garak he knew had neatly trimmed nails. This Garak pinned him to the floor with crushing strength, one hand squeezing his throat as claws broke the soft skin of his neck. This Garak had stared through him and hissed, “I want to fuck you, Terran.”

_____________

 

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

Julian looked up from his meal to see Rennan standing next to his table in the Klingon restaurant on the Promenade. The younger man’s black eyes looked large in his pale face, even narrowed as they were, studying the doctor. Julian felt a flush creeping up his neck.

“I’ve been busy,” Bashir said, voice vaguely apologetic. He gestured at the seat opposite him, and the muscular chocolatier sat.

“Julian, you’re always busy. I know you were in the Gamma Quadrant for a while, but I have a hard time believing you’ve absolutely  _ had _ to read from a PADD each time you’ve walked past the kiosk recently.” Rennan’s lips quirked into a smile. “Aside from seeing the top of your head while you scamper by, I haven’t seen you in -- what, six weeks? Seven? And you’re nervous right now. So why have you been avoiding me?”

Julian felt the blush reach his hairline. “Damned Betazoid,” he sighed. He looked at Rennan for a moment and then smiled, chagrined. “I’m sorry. I’ve been thinking some things over and I uh, it’s been a lot to process. I didn’t want to burden you with the flood of emotions associated with that.”

Rennan looked skeptical. “Is that so?”

Julian grinned. “Maybe a bit? I really have been thinking a lot. I wanted a little space. I should have said so, though.”

“Yes, you should have.” Rennan’s eyes were still narrowed, watchful, but his tone sounded almost amused.

“I’m sorry, Rennan.”

“I’ve missed you, you know,” Rennan told him, as emotionally transparent as ever. Bashir felt a pang of guilt.

“I’ve missed you, too.”

Julian felt dark eyes studying him closely for another moment. “All right,” Rennan said brightly, apparently ready to change the subject. He pulled two small, foil-wrapped items from his apron. “I’ve been fooling around with Bajoran fruits lately to make some new truffles. The Delavian dark chocolate is filled with moba and the Terran white chocolate is filled with jumja. What do you think?”

Bashir peeled the foil from one truffle and popped it into his mouth. “The white chocolate is better than most white chocolates I’ve had, but — oh my god, Rennan! It’s so sour!” Bashir’s nose wrinkled in disgust as he forced himself to swallow the shockingly tart confection.

Rennan burst out laughing. “You’re being dramatic. I thought the contrast was nice?”

“Nice? It’s so jarring,” Julian complained between sips of Tarkalean tea, trying to chase the flavor from his mouth. “And so persistent. I thought jumja was sweet?”

Rennan rolled his eyes and grinned. “Sure, if you overpower the flavor with sugar.” He picked up Julian’s tea cup and sipped it. “Based on this syrupy tea, I’m guessing that’s your preference. Have you only had jumja as a jumja stick?”

“How else am I meant to eat it? I was warned they’re barely palatable in other forms, and I think that advice was just proven accurate.”

The Betazoid rolled his eyes again. “You’re ridiculous. A jumja stick is 350 grams of  _ candy _ .”

“It contains fruit!” Julian shot back. “I won’t be chastised for my food choices by someone who put raw jumja in a truffle. Or by a  _ literal _ candy-maker, for that matter!”

Rennan laughed again, unperturbed. “I’m a chocolate-maker, thanks,” he corrected. “And this was only a beta test, but I  _ guess _ I can sweeten the next prototype. Maybe ground Bajoran dates.”

“Maybe,” Julian grimaced, “but I think you should just scrap these and stick with the favinit butter truffles you introduced a couple months ago. Those are incredible.”

Rennan shrugged. “I like them, too, but Vulcan cuisine isn’t very popular here. They’re not selling well. And I’m really trying to develop recipes that rely less on long-distance trade.”

“You could always replicate ingredients if there are trade interruptions,” Bashir suggested, already chuckling as Rennan’s face twisted into a look of horror.

“You’re vile,” Rennan joked good-naturedly, fixing narrowed eyes on Bashir’s. “No wonder Garak makes fun of your palate.”

Bashir tensed before he could stop himself.  _ Damn it _ , he thought in frustration.

Rennan tilted his head slightly, looking closely at the human. “What’s wrong? Why are you upset that I mentioned Garak?”

Julian stared into his tea for a long moment, trying to figure out how to respond.

“This is why you’ve been avoiding me?” Rennan asked, but Bashir could hear in his tone that it wasn’t quite a question. When he stayed silent, Rennan continued. “You don’t have to talk to me about it, but it might help if you did.”

Julian sighed, meeting the younger man’s eyes. “I haven’t really figured out how I feel about Garak these days. I feel really confused and sensitive about it, and I haven’t felt ready for your, uh, tendency for casually brutal honesty.”

As soon as he said it, Julian felt bad. Rennan looked hurt.  _ At least he can tell that I feel guilty for saying that. _

“Rennan, I’m sorry.” Julian reached across the table and covered Rennan’s hand with his own. “That was harsh of me. Literally nothing about you is brutal.” Bashir squeezed Rennan’s hand, hesitant. “And I understand that this is just an intercultural difference, but sometimes it’s upsetting for me that you can tell exactly how I’m feeling. It’s like you know before I even have the clarity to articulate it myself.”

Rennan looked at him without speaking for a moment, frustration etched into his smooth face. “You can  _ ask me _ not to name how you’re feeling unless you bring it up first. Plenty of my friends have set boundaries around that. My employer asked the same thing. I obviously can’t control being empathic, but I’m perfectly capable of communicating verbally. I respect your boundaries, but in case you’ve forgotten, I can’t literally read your mind, Julian.”

Bashir blushed deeply. “You’re right. I’m sorry. And perhaps communication is a skill I should hone a bit myself.” When Rennan raised one arched brow, Julian laughed. “Or a lot.” He paused. “And um, since I’m not so great at understanding my own feelings. Uh. Could you maybe help me get some clarity about Garak? If that’s alright with you?”

“Sure, of course,” Rennan replied, squeezing Julian’s hand encouragingly. “I offered, didn’t I?”

Bashir took a deep, steadying breath. “Right. So. When Garak was unwell about a month and a half ago, he, um — he acted very erratically. And I’m a doctor, so I understand the physiological reasons for his behavior. But I’m having a hard time reconciling them with our, uh, relationship. Such as it is.”

Julian hesitated, staring absently into his tea. He felt Rennan stroking the back of his hand with a thumb, gentle and comforting.

“What happened?”

“He um — he told me the time we’ve spent together hasn’t mattered to him. Which, um, which hurt. And he physically attacked me. He tackled me and pinned me to the floor of his quarters. He put his hands around my throat.” Julian struggled to keep his voice level. “We were alone in his locked quarters. His eyes looked...he looked crazed. He looked like he really wanted to hurt me. I’ve never been afraid in quite that way before. If he hadn’t had a seizure, I don’t know what might have happened.”

Rennan listened quietly. Bashir stared at their hands for a long moment before continuing.

“I was terrified of him. And I — I think I still am, even though I know it wasn’t really him. It’s not fair of me to hold that against him. But when Kira and I crossed over, the Garak there was...he was like the man who attacked me and pinned me and wanted to hurt me, but worse. Colder and more vicious. We have no proof that a person in their universe is truly parallel to a person in our own, and the existence of the Intendant tends to support the opposite argument, but when  _ that _ Garak ordered my death...everything flared back up again. It didn’t feel like someone I’d never met was trying to kill me. It felt like  _ my _ Garak was finishing the job. And I know that doesn’t make sense. It wasn’t him. But I’ve never been so terrified. And I can hardly look at him now without feeling afraid.”

Bashir lapsed into silence for a long moment, and he felt Rennan stroke his face gently. Julian leaned into the contact, feeling grounded by the comfort of Rennan’s touch. The other man’s voice was quiet when he spoke again. “I can tell your fear is very real. It seems you also feel betrayed,” Rennan mused. “Why do you think that is?”

Bashir’s mouth twisted into a bitter smile. “I’ve always known that Garak lies to me. But when I went to see Tain, I started to realize how  _ much _ he lies. And now it feels difficult to trust him at all. Physically, I’m jumpy around him, but I also really feel, um. Suspicious? Maybe? Disillusioned. Hurt.” When Rennan gave a small nod, Julian sighed. “This was never really supposed to be serious, but it was. I thought it was for him, too, in his way. But I don’t see how he could have been so dishonest with me if he cares about me.”

“And you still care about him,” Rennan said very quietly. 

“I do. I don’t want to feel like I have to be on my guard around him all the time, but when he touches me it takes everything I have not to flinch.”

“Have you set boundaries about what he can do sexually while you’re working through this?” Rennan asked, sipping his drink.

“We, uh—“ Julian began, stumbling over a response. “We haven’t—“

Rennan’s eyes widened slightly. “Not at all?”

Bashir shook his head, and tears came to his eyes. “I’ve been telling him that he needs to balance his neurotransmitters before we sleep together again, but it’s been over a month. He was doing really well before I went on the mission with Kira, but I told him we needed to wait longer. And since my return, he seems even more well-adjusted. But I’m afraid to be alone with him.” He met Rennan’s eyes, hastily wiping away a stray tear. “I can’t stop thinking about him, but I haven’t had the uh, the courage to just go see him. I’ve only seen him for a check-up in the infirmary in the two weeks I’ve been back.”

Rennan’s dark eyes were soft, moist with empathetic tears. “You miss him,” he said quietly.

Julian bit his lip to stop a second wave of tears. “I really do.”

“I thought I hadn’t seen you because you were spending all your time with Garak since you got back from the Gamma Quadrant. I had no idea. Have you talked about it with anyone? Like, therapeutically?”

Bashir sighed. “A holographic counselor. An encrypted program I purchased myself. I didn’t want to disclose the nature of our relationship to my staff or anyone from Starfleet, even someone sworn to confidentiality. I think it’s helping a little, but I feel stuck. I can’t seem to shake the fear. And then he acted very cool to me when I saw him for his recent check-up. He cancelled lunch last week. I feel like I’m losing the chance to fix things, but I just keep panicking and putting it off.”

Rennan took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Bashir could see him thinking it over carefully, but his advice was simple. “Julian, please don’t imagine that I think this is easy. It’s clearly not. But if you want to rebuild things with him, just talk to him. I think he’d be more open to that conversation than you’re giving him credit for.”

Julian looked at the Betazoid curiously. “Did he say something? Or have you sensed something?”

Rennan sighed. “I haven’t spoken to him in a couple of weeks. And I don't think it’s appropriate to report back on one person’s feelings to another. I know he’s a little opaque sometimes, but I think some of that is your own feelings obscuring your vision. So just talk.” Rennan grinned. “I know communication isn’t your strong suit, but I think it’s time to start honing.”

Bashir chewed his lip. “I don't know what to say.” He gave Rennan a half-smile. “But I guess I’ll figure it out. Or try. Thank you.” He finished his tea and stood, and Rennan followed suit. The two men embraced for a long moment. “Thank you,” Julian repeated softly, planting a fond kiss on the Betazoid’s pale neck.

_____________

 

Bashir took a deep breath, squared his posture, and pressed the door chime. “Garak? It’s me.”

After a moment, the door swished open. “Julian,” Garak said cordially, offering a polite nod. “How unexpected.”

Bashir felt nervous tension spread through his muscles. He took a breath, reminding himself that he was in control. In fact, he’d rigged a site-to-site transport that would return him to his own quarters with a word.  _ Just for my own peace of mind. Garak isn’t going to do anything to hurt me. _ “For me, too. But I think we should talk. Can I come in?”

Garak regarded the human closely. They always met in Julian’s quarters, and he had no doubt that Garak was mulling over that fact. The only time they’d been together in Garak’s quarters had been when Bashir took care of the Cardassian during and immediately after the crisis with the device. Since then, they’d only seen one another in public or in the infirmary. Julian tried not to hold his breath as he waited for Garak to answer.

“Of course, my dear,” Garak replied after a moment, stepping aside and gesturing welcomingly. “Can I get you anything? I’m having a glass of kanar.”

“A springwine would be nice.” Julian paused. He felt embarrassed by the unspoken implication. “I’m sorry that I never gave you the go-ahead to resume drinking alcohol.”

Garak handed him the springwine, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. Bashir could feel Garak’s amusement at that small concession. “I lasted a full month, if that’s any consolation. And I’ve been monitoring my intake, as always.”

“Good. That’s good to hear.” Julian was conflicted about where to sit. He started toward the sofa, turned toward the table, stopped abruptly. Finally, he sat on the sofa, his back to an armrest and one leg curled in front of him. Garak picked up his kanar, then followed his lead and sat at the opposite end, situated similarly.

Julian studied the Cardassian while he tried to sort through the rush of emotions he felt. Seeing Garak in a private setting was exciting, something he’d longed for, something he’d desperately missed. But his heart raced with apprehension, and he could feel the effects of the adrenaline coursing through his veins. Garak watched him quietly and sipped his kanar, waiting for the human to speak first.

“Rennan thinks I need to learn to communicate,” Julian said at last, a wry smile tugging at his lips. He sipped his wine, stalling, still unsure how to proceed.

Garak smirked, but his voice held no spite. “My dear, I’ve met so few who talk as much as you do.”

Julian blushed but smiled, looking down into his wine. “I don’t think they’re necessarily the same thing.” He met Garak’s eyes. Gorgeous blue eyes. Dangerous blue eyes. “I’m sorry I’ve been so distant.”

Garak started to wave a hand dismissively, but Julian shook his head. Garak stilled.

Julian took another deep breath before continuing. “I know you’re going to say I don’t owe you anything, but I’m not sure that’s strictly true. I promised to help you deal with this big, critical moment in your life, and then I just disappeared.” He paused again.  _ Be honest. Just tell him. _ “I don’t want to upset you, and I don’t want you to think I’m trying to start a fight, but I need to tell you something.”

Garak nodded, and Julian felt the older man studying his face.

“I’ve been afraid of you since you attacked me.” Saying it out loud made Julian’s heart feel like it might leap out of his throat, but a giddy sense of relief followed. He felt almost lightheaded as he continued, the words coming out more quickly than he’d intended. “I know you weren’t well. You weren’t acting like yourself. You’ve never given me a reason to be afraid of you before that night. Or since. But when I think about being alone with you, even when I miss you, I’m terrified. So I’ve stayed away.”

Garak’s face was unreadable.  _ Or is it? Was Rennan right? Maybe I just can’t see because I don’t really look? _ The Cardassian took a slow, measured breath before speaking. “Yet you’ve chosen to visit me this evening, alone.”

Julian nodded, looking into his wine. “I talked to Rennan about all of this a couple days ago, and I’ve been thinking about it nonstop since that conversation. And maybe since before then.” He looked at Garak’s face, trying to see what was there rather than what he expected to see. His chest felt tight, but Garak watched quietly. Patiently. Attentively.  _ He’s listening. _ Julian breathed deeply, continued. “I have nightmares. Almost all the time. I ignored them at first, because I was so worried about you and I wanted to help you. I went into autopilot. And I’m glad I did, of course, because I care about you.” He paused, counted three breaths. “But when I saw you were recovering, when I had time to step back, everything flooded in. As you got healthy, I realized you were strong enough to um, to hurt me. And I realized I was afraid of that. Of you. So I stayed away. I thought things were getting back to normal, but since encountering the other Garak in the mirror universe, the nightmares are worse than ever. I’m jumpy. It’s, um. It’s hard to be here right now. But you’re important to me, so I think I need to confront my fears.” He paused again, counted five breaths. “So I’m here.”

Garak was quiet. When Julian looked up from his wine again, he saw Garak still watching, still listening. Encouraged, Julian went on. “I’m not angry with you, and I don’t blame you. But if we’re going to spend time together, we would need to set some new rules. At least for now.” Bashir struggled with the uncomfortable vulnerability of what amounted to both an offer and a request, glancing from Garak’s face to the sofa cushion between them and back.

“All right,” Garak agreed.

“You’d still like to spend time together?” Julian asked, voice hopeful but a little surprised.

Garak’s lips quirked into a small smile. “I would. I’m sorry I was so derisive about the value of our time together when I was, ah, unwell. I wasn’t myself.”

Bashir felt one of the knots in his chest unravel. “I’m glad to hear that. So, um, new rules.” He took a deep breath, held it, exhaled slowly. “Or, new rule, maybe.” He blushed, feeling tears prick his eyes. “I felt so helpless. That night. I feel helpless in my dreams almost every night. I know we’ve played with that dynamic in the past, played with giving you power over me, but I don’t think I can handle it right now. I need to feel like I’m in control. When we start having sex again, I mean.”

Garak raised a brow ridge at the word “when,” looking surprised, but he nodded. “All right. Until you tell me otherwise, you’ll initiate any sexual activity and you’ll set the parameters.” He paused, then went on, his voice gentle. “I’d hope you’ve understood that you were part of setting the parameters all along.”

Julian nodded, trying not to let the tender tone of Garak’s voice loose the tears building in him. “I know. You haven’t done anything wrong. I’m just worried — for now — about the types of play we’re accustomed to. When um, when I’m feeling better, it might be useful to revisit that sort of thing, but for now we need to table it.”

“Of course.”

Julian managed half a smile. “Thank you.” Silence fell for a long moment. Although he felt relieved, Bashir struggled against the rising impulse to flee the vulnerability he felt. Instead, he leaned toward Garak, extending a hand. The man accepted, and Julian squeezed his fingers. His heart constricted when Garak gently returned the pressure.

“I’ve missed you,” Julian said quietly.

“And I you.”

Bashir blinked back tears. He stood. “Thank you for letting me talk to you. Can we have lunch tomorrow?”

“Absolutely,” Garak replied with a nod, standing.

Julian smiled and walked toward the door. He paused, turned back, and embraced Garak, wrapping his arms around the man’s shoulders. He felt the Cardassian hold very still for a moment before returning the embrace. Julian counted six breaths, feeling Garak’s body soften against him. He pressed a kiss to the small scales adjacent to Garak’s neck ridge, then turned and left.

_____________

 

“You  _ do _ know kotra is a game of strategy, don’t you, Julian?” Garak teased, moving a game piece on the board between them.

Julian rolled his eyes. “Not everyone is as calculating as you, Garak.”

“ _ Calculating?! _ My dear, I’m simply methodical.” Bashir caught Garak stealing an amused glance as he moved another game piece, effectively winning the game.

“Potato, potato,” Julian said dryly.

“I’m sorry, what?” Garak looked genuinely confused.

Julian almost spit out his kanar laughing when he realized the idiom wouldn’t translate. “Sorry, Garak, there are two pronunciations of the word ‘potato’ in Terran Standard. The universal translator wouldn’t accurately render the difference, I’m sure.”

Garak raised a brow ridge. “I see. So you’re saying being methodical is the same as being calculating.”

Julian laughed. “Ah, so it  _ did _ translate!”

“Your smugness is very clear in any language, my dear.” Garak smiled innocently, and Julian laughed again.

“ _ Smug! _ Says the man practically  _ giggling _ over beating me at a game he’s been playing longer than I’ve been alive.”

“Surely my advanced age is no help to me at all. Don’t humans prize youth for its vigor and boldness?” Garak shot back.

Julian laughed again, sipping his kanar. “Using my Federation values against me?”

“Just a feeble  _ calculation _ by an old man,” quipped Garak.

Julian had to set down his drink to keep from spilling it in his laughter. Over the past week, he and Garak had slowly rebuilt their conversational rapport, and laughing together while they verbally sparred felt better than anything had in weeks.

“Not so old, Garak,” he purred, a little surprised to hear the flirtatious tone of his own voice.

Garak rolled his eyes, but his voice followed Julian’s lead. “You can’t flatter a Cardassian by pointing our their youth, Julian.”

“Can I flatter you by telling you how much I like your new suit? Black is absolutely your color.”

“Thank you, my dear,” Garak demurred, casting a nonchalant glance over his outfit. The fitted black shirt was tailored to emphasize Garak’s broad shoulders, with a ridge cut-out so wide it exposed the full length of his clavicles. Julian wasn’t entirely versed in the subtleties of Cardassian fashion, but he suspected the garment was quite daring.

“Did you make it?” he pressed.

“I did.” Garak gestured at the pants. “Cardassian fashion is moving away from complementary items to full matching outfits, and I didn’t own a black shirt to go with these pants.”

“So this is something you can wear to work?” Julian asked lightly.

He knew immediately that his voice and eyes had been just a bit too innocent. Garak pursed his lips for a moment, peering sideways at Bashir, then smirked. “No, Julian. It’s not.”

“So you dressed up? To play kotra with a smug, unmethodical, Federation youngster?”

“I haven’t heard the word ‘youngster’ before. Is it a synonym for brat?”

Julian threw his head back, laughing. He met Garak’s eyes, grinning into them. He felt the snide comeback he was formulating slip away.  _ I want him so badly right now. This is what we  _ do.  _ We argue, we flirt, we fuck. _ He wasn’t sure if he was ready, but his body certainly thought so. Julian could feel that he was half hard just from the thrill of the argument, an activity he’d long ago come to associate with foreplay.

He realized he’d been thinking too long when he heard Garak’s voice. “Julian? Are you all right?”

Julian blinked, meeting Garak’s eyes. “Yes, I’m fine. I’m fine.” He glanced around, grounding himself in the space. He took a deep breath, exhaled. “Garak, I want you.”

He saw Garak’s pupils dilate. “I’m very open to whatever you have in mind,” the Cardassian said mildly, and Julian could hear how perfectly controlled the man’s voice was.

In contrast, Julian’s hands had started trembling. He set down his kanar. “I really, really want you. I’m also worried that I might, um, need to stop. Can you promise me? You’ll absolutely stop if I need to?”

“Of course, Julian. I’ll follow your lead.”

Garak’s blue eyes, dilated as they were, looked sincere. Julian stood, rounded the small table to stand behind Garak, and rested his hands on the man’s shoulders, feeling the familiar texture of the ridges against his palms. “Move the chair back from the table a little,” he murmured.

Garak complied, and Julian sat on the Cardassian’s lap, straddling him. Tentative, his fingers stroked Garak’s ridges from just below his aural ridge all the way to the shoulder joint, where the fabric hid the slope of a somewhat smaller ridge that ran down the lateral arm. Heated blue eyes stared up at him, and Bashir felt his cock harden further under that gaze. He began to massage the ridges, working back toward Garak’s neck and head, maintaining eye contact as his fingers kneaded.

“Can I — may I touch you, Julian?” Garak kept his voice level despite the dark flush taking hold in his shoulder and neck ridges.

Julian smiled down into his eyes. “Not yet,” he said lightly, pinching Garak’s favorite set of scales a bit harder. He heard a quiet gasp before the Cardassian could control it.

Julian began to roll his hips, shifting his seat until he could rub his erection against Garak’s belly. When his hands returned to the scales of Garak’s neck, he held Garak’s face for a moment, stroking his thumbs along both jaw ridges. Garak gazed up at him, and the openness in Garak’s face pierced Julian’s heart. He leaned down and pressed his lips against Garak’s. The kiss deepened as he hungrily explored Garak’s mouth.  _ I’ve missed this so goddamn much. I’ve missed him so goddamn much. _ His aching cock pressed rhythmically against Garak’s body, and he keened against his lover’s lips.

“I want to touch you,” Garak whispered.

“Not yet,” Julian repeated, panting.

He didn’t have a plan, exactly, but this felt so good he didn’t want to stop. Garak obediently fell quiet, and Bashir reclaimed his mouth, nipping Garak’s lower lip lightly. He heard another very quiet gasp, and he smiled. Julian slid a hand into Garak’s thick black hair, grasped a fistful, and gently pulled until Garak’s neck was exposed on one side. Bashir kissed along the jaw ridge before licking down the soft, tiny scales on the front of his neck, eliciting a nearly imperceptible shiver from the man beneath him. He smiled again. Still holding Garak’s hair in one hand, he bit down on Garak’s favorite neck scales. Another shiver. He increased the speed of his hips, pressing his overheated cock hard against Garak’s soft waist. As he felt the tension build between his legs, he bit down harder. Garak squirmed slightly but made no other move.

When Julian’s orgasm took him, his sank his teeth into Garak scales, crying out through clenched teeth. To his surprise, he heard Garak softly cry out, too. He rode his orgasm, clinging to Garak, grinding the scales between his teeth. Julian hadn’t even masturbated since before Garak’s medical crisis, and the force of the orgasm was blinding. As he came down, he went limp on the older man’s lap.

Julian felt himself start to slip as he caught his breath, and Garak’s hands deftly repositioned him into a surer seat before dropping back to his sides again. Julian felt a liquid warmth against his face and felt confused for a moment.  _ I’m not crying. Am I crying? _

He sat up and swiped at his cheek. His hand came away streaked with dark blood.  _ Cardassian blood. _ He looked at Garak and realized he’d drawn blood biting the older man’s neck ridge. He touched the wound gently.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” Julian murmured softly.

Garak huffed a quiet chuckle. “Oh, I think you did.”

Bashir tore his eyes away from the blood on his fingers to meet Garak’s gaze. He didn’t look angry. Amused, perhaps. Aroused, certainly.

_Alright, then._ Julian smiled sweetly, then slowly licked the blood from his fingers, holding Garak’s eyes. He felt a tremor run through Garak. Julian leaned forward and ran his tongue over the bleeding scales, then sucked gently. The salty, slightly sweet taste of Cardassian blood filled his senses. He moaned softly, sucking harder at the damaged scales. Beneath him, Garak was trembling.

“Please,” Garak whispered.

Bashir nipped the broken scales lightly, encouraging fresh blood to flow, pulling a gasp from the older man. “Please what?” he whispered teasingly, licking Garak’s aural ridge.

Garak made a sound somewhere between a hiss and a sigh but said nothing, breathing heavily.

“Please what?” Julian repeated, caressing Garak’s hip ridges with a punishing grip as he sucked the blood from his injured scales.

Garak was shuddering under him, and Julian could feel the barely contained tension building. He tamped down a welling fear, sitting back to look at Garak’s face.

What he saw was both reassuring and deeply arousing. Dilated blue eyes looked at him with raw desire. His neck and aural ridge were faintly smeared with blood, and more oozed from his broken scales. Julian’s heart clenched at the unguarded, pleading look on Garak’s face.

“Please what?” Julian repeated the question a third time, voice silky but hard. “What do you want? Tell me.”

Garak gazed up at Julian, eyes burning. “You’ve marked me. Make me yours. Please.”

Bashir felt sure his viscera had ignited. His cock hardened again inside his clothes. He stared down at Garak for a long moment, until the man dropped his eyes. The offer — the plea — was overwhelming.  _ For both of us, I think. _

Finally, Julian stood and pulled Garak to his feet. The older man complied, silent aside from the sound of his heavy breathing. Bashir led Garak to the bedroom. He undressed him quickly but carefully, laying aside the new shirt neatly. When he removed Garak’s pants, Julian found the Cardassian had everted. After removing his very moist undergarments, Bashir palmed Garak’s prUt possessively. Garak gasped at the touch but remained motionless.

“Lie down,” Julian commanded. He removed his own clothing, tossing it aside.

Straddling Garak’s legs, Bashir climbed onto the bed. He ran his hands appreciatively along Garak’s inner thighs, caressing the smooth micro scales. It had been too long since he’d seen his lover naked, and the man’s remarkable beauty struck him anew. He kissed Garak’s thighs, feeling the flesh tremble as little gasps escaped the Cardassian’s throat.

Julian reached the juncture of Garak’s legs, where his hard prUt glistened wetly, its base spreading swollen ajan lips invitingly. Julian traced the lips lightly with a finger, and Garak gasped and twitched. Julian slipped two fingers into the blessedly slick orifice. At first, he could only reach the base of Garak’s prUt, but as he probed more deeply, his fingers slid in further, discovering depth past the swell of the irlun ridge. Garak’s thighs flexed and Julian heard a whimper.  _ He’s whimpering already. Oh, this will be fun. _

Julian slipped his fingers from Garak’s ajan, licking the slightly sweet, acidic fluid from his fingers as he met Garak’s eyes. He pulled himself up, aligning their hips, resting the tip of his cock against Garak’s ajan. “I’m going to fuck you.”

Garak spread his thighs wider. “Please,” he whispered.

“I’m not sure your ajan is deep enough to accommodate the length of my cock. You need to stop me if it hurts.”

Garak nodded.

Holding Garak’s gaze, Julian pressed his cock inside him, feeling himself enveloped in an intoxicatingly silky wetness. Both men moaned deeply. As Julian began to thrust, he felt the head of his cock stroke the underside of Garak’s irlun ridge. Garak moaned sharply, wrapping his legs around Julian and pulling him closer.

The care Julian was taking to gauge Garak’s tolerance began to slip away at the sensation of thick thighs encircling his waist. The heat he felt deeper inside surprised him, accustomed as he was to the cooler touch of Garak’s mouth and hands. Julian pressed more deeply into the warmth, trying to observe Garak’s reactions as he tested the depths he could reach.

Garak was watching him raptly, eyes closing sometimes with harder thrusts, but Julian couldn’t quite tell if it was pain or bliss that made Garak’s eyelids flutter.  _ Both, maybe, _ he thought, considering how much the man had seemed to enjoy the obvious pain of his injured scales.

Leaning down to kiss Garak, Julian thrust slow and deep. He panted against Garak’s mouth, lightly nipping his lips. “I’ve wanted this for so long,” he whispered.

“I have, too,” Garak responded softly, and the sincerity pierced Bashir.

“It feels so fucking good to be inside you, Garak,” he purred. “I want to fuck you harder, but I don’t want to hurt you.” Julian gently bit the broken scales until blood oozed from them again.

Garak shuddered, shaking his head. “Hurt me. Please.”

Bashir stopped moving for a moment, holding Garak’s face with one hand until their eyes met. “I’ll hurt you, but don’t let me harm you. Your safe word is Tholian.” When the Cardassian nodded, Julian kissed him, pushing his bloody tongue into the man’s mouth. Garak arched against him with a moan, thighs flexing enticingly.

Pulling himself to his knees, Julian peeled Garak’s thighs away from his waist. Holding the backs of Garak’s knees, he pushed the man’s legs apart roughly, eliciting another moan. Julian leaned into the solid bulk of Garak’s thighs and ass, pressing his cock more and more deeply until Garak cried out.

“Okay?” Julian asked breathlessly, feeling drunk on Garak’s uncharacteristic vocalizations.

“Yes!” Garak hissed. “Yes.”

Julian began to thrust into the soft wetness between Garak’s thighs, grunting with effort. Beneath him, Garak whimpered as each thrust slammed Julian’s cock over his irlun ridge. As the small ridge swelled further, Julian found the stimulation to the head of his cock irresistible but nearly unbearable.  _ If an Augment who’s already come once tonight can’t last, how can anyone? _ The absurd thought flitted through his head unbidden, and he almost laughed aloud.

“Look at you whimpering and writhing on my cock,” Julian gasped, watching the exquisite pleasure on Garak’s face. “So wet for me.” Garak groaned, eyes fluttering open. “So soft and so good for me.” Garak up looked at him, whimpered. “You’re so beautiful spread open for me.” Blue eyes gazed at him for a pregnant moment before closing as Garak moaned.

Julian fucked Garak harder, deeper, until Garak cried out ecstatically with the force of each thrust. Julian was lightheaded, overstimulated, euphoric. He leaned harder against Garak’s thighs, gripping his hip ridges to pull himself even deeper inside his lover.

Garak tensed beneath him, falling silent for a beat before crying out loudly, his voice ragged. The ajan around Julian’s cock didn’t clench, but he felt waves of movement at the base of Garak’s prUt upon ejaculation. Light blue semen splattered them both.

Julian came a moment later, crying out as he spilled inside Garak. He collapsed forward, pushing Garak’s thighs apart so he could stay buried inside him. Phosphenes danced in front of his eyes as he tried to catch his breath. Julian’s hips moved languidly, milking the sensation of his cock pulsing inside Garak as long as possible. Garak lay limp beneath him, little aftershocks jerking his body periodically.

They lay quietly for a few long minutes. Finally, feeling Garak’s prUt sliding slowly across his belly as it retracted, Julian hesitantly slipped his softening cock from Garak’s ajan. He shifted his position to lie next to Garak, who turned to him with a relaxed, hazy gaze.

Julian smiled shyly. “Garak,” he whispered, wanting to say something but feeling bereft of words.  _ We have a lot to talk about. _

Garak’s lips quirked into a hint of a smile. His eyes were hooded, sleepy. “Julian,” he murmured.

  
Julian pushed himself up on an elbow, pulling a blanket over them. Garak’s gaze followed him. Warmth spread through his chest at the look of affection in the Cardassian’s eyes. Placing a soft kiss on Garak’s temporal ridge, Julian lay back down, one arm over Garak’s chest and one leg resting atop Garak’s own. Garak slid an arm under the human’s head. Comfort rolled over Julian in waves. As he drifted into sleep, the smile crept back across his lips.  _ We can talk later. _

 


End file.
